


Spring Fever

by Mossyrock



Series: Ineffable Husbands Bingo [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Endless fluff, Extra Sweet, Fluff, Fluffier than a room full of dogs, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Short & Sweet, Too much fluff, really short, sick crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 02:13:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21236435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossyrock/pseuds/Mossyrock
Summary: Aziraphale loves spring. It's filled with new life and fresh starts.Crowley hates spring. People are too cheerful - and the air filled with pollen. Whose bright idea was hay fever?Featuring a sick Crowley and a kind, caring, adorably soft Aziraphale to look after him.For my Ineffable Husbands bingo prompt - Spring.





	Spring Fever

Spring was Aziraphale’s favourite time of year. The air was fresh, smelling of flowers and sunshine, breaking through the bleak melancholy of the winter. Everyone seemed in good spirits and new life was being born into the world everywhere you looked. Aziraphale thought it was glorious.

Crowley hated spring. Everyone was cheerful, talking about how nice the weather was and discussing the inane activities they planned to do once it was warm enough. The sun became annoyingly bright, enough to almost burn through his sunglasses. Crowley despised it.

And worse, despite not being human, Crowley somehow suffered from the seasonal affliction – hay fever. The flowers were spitting their pollen all over the place and Crowley’s nose was apparently too sensitive to it. There was a reason he kept only non-flowering plants in his apartment.

It made him feel allergic to the happiness of others.

He was lucky that Eden hadn’t had seasons or he’d have been next to useless at tempting, too busy snuffling and sneezing. Of course, sickness didn’t exist back then either, thankfully. That was one of Her newer, crueller inventions to punish the humans (and apparently demons) who She claimed to love for their transgressions. 

Crowley thought it was a load of crap. What was the use of giving free will but then punishing them for using it? 

In past years, he would simply sleep through the worst of spring. A quick few months nap would bypass the issue and no one was any the wiser. If Aziraphale had noticed the pattern over the millennia, he certainly hadn’t mentioned it.

But now that they were a couple, Crowley couldn’t just hibernate anymore. Aziraphale expected him to be there and, while it was nice to be wanted, it meant he had to put up with sneezing, a runny nose and watering eyes. He felt utterly pathetic.

He tried to hide it, at first. They were walking hand in hand through the park when he’d felt a sneeze building. He tried to will it away, tried every trick he’d ever heard to banish it. But no matter what he did, it kept coming.

“Ah choo!”

Aziraphale jumped and looked at him in shock. All the birds that had been watching them hopefully for bread or seeds hastily took off, quacking and squawking in protest. A small bush beside the path spontaneously set alight. Crowley miracled it out before anyone could see.

“Are you alright, dearest?” Aziraphale offered him his handkerchief, which was, unsurprisingly, a tartan pattern. It even had a beautifully embroidered ‘A’ in the corner. Crowley wouldn’t be surprised if Aziraphale had embroidered it himself a few centuries ago when sewing was all the rage for sophisticated young ladies. 

He shook his head and waved it off irritably. He didn’t want to soil Aziraphale’s nice handkerchief. And he refused to admit that he was getting sick.

“I’m fine,” He replied, annoyed when his voice came out stuffy, like his nose was blocked. Which it was.

The worst thing was, Crowley thought, he could miracle away the sickness, but as soon as any pollen found its way into his general vicinity again, he’d be back at square one. It was infuriating. 

“Are you sure?” Aziraphale had stopped and used Crowley’s hand – still clasped in his firmly – to pull Crowley around to face him. His concerned eyes carefully assessed him. “You don’t sound very well. Perhaps we should head back to the shop?”

“It’s nothing, angel. Don’t worry about it,” He grumbled, refusing to meet his kind eyes. He hated feeling weak. 

“Come on, you silly demon.” He shook his head with a fond smile. He glanced around the park, and seeing that no one would notice, he miracled them back to the shop. Crowley was instantly glad for the warm, comfortable, slightly dusty air, rather than the pollen filled, so called ‘_fresh_’ air of the outdoors.

“Let me make you a nice cup of tea.” The angel disappeared into the kitchenette, coming back a minute later with a steaming cup of tea. Crowley couldn’t smell it, but he could bet it had lemon and ginger in it.

Aziraphale gently forced it into his hands, ignoring Crowley’s weak protestations.

“You know that one or other of us can just miracle me healthy again, right?” He asked the angel. All he got in reply was the sternest glare the angel could muster. Which was not very intimidating, but Crowley still did as he was told and obediently sipped at the tea. Aziraphale might not get angry, as such, but his disappointed pout was enough to have Crowley wanting to apologise for everything he’d ever done – wrong or otherwise. The angel had him wrapped around his little finger, like a pathetic sap, but Crowley had long ago accepted that Aziraphale was his weakness.

Well, Aziraphale and hay fever, apparently.

“Do you often get sick? I’ve never seen you be sick before.” He sat beside Crowley, which would usually make the demon very happy and before too long he’d find his way into the angel’s lap. But in this case, Aziraphale was busy fussing over him, putting his hand to his head, checking for a temperature. Crowley let him do it. He rolled his eyes, but as they were hidden behind his lenses, it didn’t have any impact on the concerned celestial nurse. 

“It’s nothing,” When Aziraphale pinned him with his stare again, he sighed and confessed, “I get hay fever in spring. It’s not a big deal, it’s just a little sniffle.” To punctuate his point, he sniffed, before he miracled the sickness away. He sighed in relief, glad to have his full breathing capacity back. He still sipped his tea though, to appease Aziraphale and because, now he could taste and smell it, he could tell Aziraphale had added a little bit of honey as well. It was rather good.

“You’ve had this before?” Aziraphale looked put out, like he was upset he didn’t know this about Crowley.

“Every spring.”

“Why didn’t I know? Am I a bad partner?” Aziraphale looked at him with his wounded frown and Crowley couldn’t help reaching out and taking his hand.

“Not at all, angel. I just don’t tend to go out much in spring. It's not a big deal.”

“Well, in future, if you don’t feel well, please let me know. We don’t have to go to the park if it makes you feel ill.”

“Honestly, angel, it’s not that bad,” He lied. He knew that Aziraphale loved walking around the parks and enjoyed the outdoors. He’d hate to be the reason that he missed out on one of his favourite things, especially at his favourite time of year.

Aziraphale saw right through him.

“I won’t enjoy it if you’re going to be sneezing, sniffling and miserable, my darling,” He squeezed Crowley’s hand.

Crowley still wasn't used to the sincere emotions the angel sent his way, so he merely shrugged. 

“Oh! I have an idea,” Aziraphale suddenly exclaimed, startling him.

Crowley knew to be wary when the angel seemed unnecessarily excited by a sudden burst of inspiration. He was usually about to do something angelic (like save a child) or something silly (like cross the road without looking because he was too lost in thought. Crowley wondered if Aziraphale knew just how many times Crowley’d had to miracle a few cars out of the way to avoid him being squashed. Sure, he’d just get a new body, but Crowley didn’t really want to see the love of his existence run down no matter whether he was immortal or not).

In this case, he suspected it might be the latter. 

* * *

Crowley was scowling for all he was worth. He felt entirely ridiculous, but when he glanced over at Aziraphale, who was basking in the sunshine and breathing in the crisp spring air, he couldn’t quite find it in himself to care. The transparent bubble around his head shimmered in the light as they walked, but it was only visible to him and Aziraphale. To any onlooker, they were a perfectly normal couple walking along beside the lake, holding hands and enjoying the fresh air.

But of course, they knew better.

Aziraphale’s idea had worked, even if Crowley did feel a bit ridiculous. The invisible ball around his head allowed him to see unimpeded, talk to Aziraphale without issue and blocked all the pollen and other allergens from causing him any distress. It worked surprisingly well.

Aziraphale looked up at him and seeing him breathing easily, gave him a beaming smile and a happy little wiggle.

Maybe, Crowley conceded, spring wasn’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that Demons and Angels probably can't get sick, but what are you gonna do? I wanted fluff, so here we are. 
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as mossyrock16. I don't post much. I mostly lurk. Like a demon. But if you want to say hi, I'm always available. I will talk DT, MSheen or GO until the cows come home. 
> 
> Comments always appreciated. I have no beta, so any issues, let me know.


End file.
